


i didn't know i was lonely until i saw your face

by intertwiningwords



Category: Barry (TV 2018)
Genre: Bisexual Barry Berkman, Crushes, F/M, First Time, M/M, Multi, Unexperienced Barry Berkman, Virgin Barry Berkman, bisexual awakening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:15:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21654361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intertwiningwords/pseuds/intertwiningwords
Summary: barry never considered himself lonely until he found himself longing for a specific person.
Relationships: Barry Berkman/Albert Nguyen, Barry Berkman/Original Male Character, Barry Berkman/Ryan Madison, Barry Berkman/Sally Reed
Comments: 6
Kudos: 38





	i didn't know i was lonely until i saw your face

**Author's Note:**

> hi!! i got this idea and just kinda spewed it out lol.
> 
> the part about barry hooking up with the lawyer is inspired by the first drafts of barry that i saw on twitter!! i can't find the links right now but if i find them again i'll edit them in!!
> 
> chose not to use archive warnings but mentions of sex (non-graphic) and some mentions of violence/gore (but if you watch the show i doubt it'll bother you much lol, again not very graphic!!)
> 
> i hope you enjoy!!
> 
> also i apologize for not including hank i didn't really know where to fit him in but hank/barry is still a dope ship lol

It started in the army.

Barry had never paid much attention to girls or boys in his teenage years. He didn’t even have friends in high school, let alone crushes, or even more absurd, anyone who would have a crush on him.

And so, he kept to himself. Yes, he was lonely, but he tried not to focus on it. He just kept his head down and did his own thing.

But sometimes, at night, he would lay in his bed and hug a pillow tightly to his chest, shut his eyes, and wonder what it would be like if that pillow were a person. The imaginary person never had a name, or even really a face. They never took the form of the popular girl who was in his math class or that quiet boy who had smiled at him in the hallway.  
It was just someone, because, at that point, he would honestly have settled for anyone.

At eighteen, he joined the army, like so many other boys who just weren’t “good at school” or “made to sit behind a desk” felt that they had to, and Barry finally began to feel a sense of comradery, felt a little more seen, and maybe even liked.

Then, everything changed when it came to Albert.

He was shorter than Barry by a few inches, sporting the same shaved haircut as all the men around them, but it somehow suited him better than anyone else. His eyes were dark and his skin was tan, and he smiled with the kind of enthusiasm of someone who wasn’t deployed in a war, but more like a child in a candy store, bright and genuine, always trying to find the best in every situation.

“Berkman! Get your ass over here, I wanna introduce you.”

Nervously, Barry rose to his feet and walked across the room to where Albert was standing with a small group of other soldiers, whose names escaped him, as they all looked pretty much the same in uniform.

“Gentleman,” Albert began, throwing an arm around Barry’s shoulder and pulling him close. “This is Barry Berkman. The kid is a perfect fuckin’ shot. Took out a dude from the biggest distance I’ve ever seen…”

The other soldiers eyed Barry curiously, but he was entirely focused on the one-armed hug that Albert had trapped him in, that wide, child-like grin spread across his face, and Barry felt his face heating up.

“It wasn’t a big deal,” he said, shaking his head.

“Not a big deal? Jesus, Berkman, don’t be so fucking humble. That was the craziest shot I’ve seen my whole time over here,” Albert cried and gave him a playful punch to the shoulder, and it made Barry laugh.

That night, Barry laid on his side and rested his hands on his hips as if someone were holding him from behind, and for the first time, that imaginary someone had a name.

But, nothing ever happened between him and Albert. Conversations quickly led to the discovery that he had a wife back home, one whom he loved very much, and was planning to start a family with when his deployment was over.

“I didn’t want to leave her to raise a kid alone, so we decided to wait, you know?”

Barry nodded, even though he didn’t know.

“What about you, man? Girlfriend, wife, kids?”

He shook his head. “Uh, no.”

Albert grinned. “Oh, c’mon! A handsome guy like you has gotta have a girl back home,” he teased.

Barry felt his face flushing again, a very new and strange sensation. “No, it’s just me.”

“Don’t you worry, buddy,” Albert said. “Minute you’re back, the chicks will swarm. They dig a man in uniform, or so I’m told.”

Barry chuckled and shrugged, but deep down he knew that no one would be swarming to see him when he returned. He’d be lucky if anyone showed up.

And just like that, the conversation moved on, and Barry was grateful to not have to spill any more of his guts.

That had been a week before Albert died.

In the hospital, Barry didn’t sleep much, and when he did, there was no imaginary person there to hold him; all he saw was Albert’s blood staining his hands, all he felt was the kickback of his gun as he emptied all his ammo into an innocent man, and all he could wonder was if he was he was even worthy of love at all.

He wasn’t so sure of the answer.

***

After his discharge, Barry got lonely again.

He had no friends, no family that he wanted to speak to, aside from Fuches.

At a coffee shop one morning, although he was a bit low on cash but still desperate for caffeine, an attractive man in a suit had caught his eye and bought his drink, chatting him up.

He was handsome, a lawyer. Married, judging by the ring on his finger, but not as loyal as Albert had been apparently, by the wink he gave Barry when he slipped him his business card.

Lonely evenings had led Barry to the phone, business card in a shaky hand.

He’d answered, and given Barry a time and a place. He drove there without question. If he was going to get ax-murdered by a stranger, at least he wouldn’t be leaving much behind.

He didn’t get murdered, but they drank, and made small-talk, and kissed fervently.

Barry had only ever kissed one person before, a girl back when he was much too young for it to have meant anything, and he couldn’t even remember her name. He remembered that he found her pretty, though, and that her hair had smelled like fruity shampoo.

“Have you ever done this before?” the lawyer asked, and his breath was thick with the smell of whiskey.

Barry shook his head.

“I can show you, but only if you’d like…”

And Barry let him.

It wasn’t a romantic first time by any means, but it was intimate in a way that he had never experienced before. Lips on his, teeth nipping at his throat, hands everywhere.

After it was over, Barry almost felt like crying, but he choked it back (something he’d gotten good at in the army; controlling your emotions was a survival tactic). He didn’t regret it, and it was unrelated to the burning pain that still lingered with every shift of his still naked body, so he couldn’t quite place why.

The lawyer couldn’t stay, he said. But the room was paid for, and Barry was more than welcome to stay there if he wanted, and he’d kissed Barry quickly and told him to call again soon.

He fell asleep in a bed that felt far too big.

It didn’t last long, him and lawyer, and Barry was okay with it. He hadn’t loved him, but he did miss him sometimes. Or, maybe he just missed the connection.

And then, Fuches had a job for him, and all ideas of being happy, settling down, dating...All of that flew right out of his mind. If he hadn’t deserved love before, he certainly didn’t now.

***

He hadn’t gone to L.A. with the idea that it would change his life It was just a normal hit after all, so what was the big deal?

Well, Ryan Madison was not a normal hit.

He wasn’t a wife-beater or meth-dealer or anything like the men that Barry usually took out _(although, neither was the man who he killed after Albert’s death)_ , and he was kind and funny, and he was attractive, too.

So was Sally though, the blonde girl who had yelled at him outside the acting class. Her fiery energy, her unapologetic existence, and the way she looked upon a stage as she was moved to tears, and then managing to turn pain into something beautiful...It was something that Barry envied as much as he was attracted to it.

That night after his first class, at the bar, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of either of them.

A part of him was so conflicted. He’d liked men this long, why couldn’t he just stay with that? Why did this girl, so passionate and pretty, who smelled like fruity shampoo like the girl from so long ago, have to come into his life and flip his already crazy world upsidedown?

“Barry Block,” Ryan had told him, a drunken grin spread across his face, patting Barry’s shoulder, and the touch lingered.

Barry felt a tingle move up his spine at the contact, thankful for the dim light of the room to hopefully conceal the heat he felt rising in his face.

But Sally was on the dance floor, swaying like there was no one watching, the skirt of her dress twirling and her hair bouncing on her shoulders, and as he looked at her, Ryan’s hand still on his shoulder, he smiled.

He hadn’t smiled like that in a long time.

***

When Ryan died, it was hard to be sad.

He’d gone to L.A. to kill him in the first place, right? It was just a job done, although, he hadn’t been the one to pull the trigger.

But, he could have been.

And the nerve, the fucking _nerve_ of him to wonder what could have been when he had all intents of shooting the handsome, starry-eyed, kind-hearted actor in the fucking head made him feel truly despicable.

And the nerve of him to mourn, and fake sadness, and to comfort his classmates, possible friends he craved, the gall he had to hug Sally to his chest as she cried and relish in her touch when she had just lost a friend, and it had been (at least partially) his fault.

And he kissed her.

He slept with her.

He fell in love with a woman who was too headstrong, too brave, too goddamn beautiful and creative and a little bit insane in the best way, and he let himself fall in love with her, and when she kissed him back, when she became the first woman to have sex with him, so patient with his unsureness and willing to instruct, and even when she rejected him, insulted him, and put her feelings before his own, he loved her, because she was the closest thing he could picture to a home, and he was desperate to call something, someone, fucking anyone or anything a home.

And when he slept beside her, her head on his chest, so trusting that he was not like the violent men she’s fallen for in the past, he knew he wasn’t worthy or deserving of any of it.

But he was too afraid to let it go.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading!! this is a really small fandom so i love interacting with other fans, if you enjoyed i'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments, or just drop a kudos if you're feeling kind :)


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